La figlia del clan racconta la ’ndrangheta a caccia della libertà
di Raffaella Calandra
by Donata Marrazzo
4' min read
4' min read
It is unclear where Aliano begins and ends, with the people - all together almost 20,000 people - trespassing in the nearby villages of Stigliano, Sant'Arcangelo, Gallicchio, San Brancato, amidst newly inaugurated bed and breakfasts and camping tents wherever they happen to be. Better if with a view of the gullies.
Visitors come and go. Some 'beach themselves' on old sofas placed under the town hall. The heat gives no respite, but it goes on: the Aliano gathering is to all intents and purposes a technical trial of repopulating an inland area. The poet Franco Arminio has set to work on this experiment. In Aliano, where on paper there are around 800 inhabitants but only half of them actually live, he has created the House of Landscape: a small place where, every summer, during the 'La luna e i calanchi' festival, of which Arminio is the creator and artistic director, the future of the places is discussed and shaped. "An action of trust and militancy to focus attention on villages and mountains. A middle way between politics and poetry. Because then just a festival is not enough,' Arminio explains.
Newly inhabited, the town expands, multiplies accommodation and restaurants, opens cellars and oil mills to set up museums: of the present and the past. And galleries: of abstract expressionism (such as the one dedicated to Paul Russotto) and of rural civilisation. They play drums, flutes, accordions, pasture bells and Tibetan bells. In the Carlo Levi picture gallery, the Turin writer's canvases are surprising: bare trees and olive trees, self-portraits, emigrants, grieving women, bread and roses. It was in Aliano that Levi set his 'Christ stopped at Eboli': it was during his confinement that he drew inspiration. And it was in the cemetery of the small Lucanian village that he wished to be buried. His house, in an uphill alley in the historic centre, is brought back to life today thanks to a multi-vision system: here is the vegetable garden, the Baron dog, Giulia's portrait, the lit fireplaces, the paintbrushes.
The mayor put his faith in the poet Luigi De Lorenzo, in his third term in office, one funding after another - regional, national, European, including the royalties that the municipality takes from the extraction of oil in Tempa Rossa, between Corleto Perticara, in the province of Potenza, and Gorgoglione, towards Matera - has renovated the town with renovations and maintenance, but also with the construction of an entire hotel village. De Lorenzo goes by memory and says that 'funding amounts to around 9 million euro. Here, however, it is still all a blossoming of projects. And the matrix is almost always cultural: four million euro, for example, are earmarked for the construction of the Teatro del Tempo, a multidisciplinary centre for the valorisation of contemporary authorial production.
The moonscape of the badlands is waiting to be reorganised into paths (that of 'don Carlo', 'don Luigino', the peasant witch). The horned masks of the historical carnival, described by Levi as 'unleashed demons', will have a museum. The whole country will be reproduced on maps as a large constellation of the arts. And given the success of the festival and the great attraction of artists and intellectuals, for the next edition, the mayor plans to extend the duration of the event and increase the availability of beds: 'I have in mind the creation of a glamping, with comfort and services, for our guests who love nature,' he announces.